Coulrophilia
by Garnetcorvid
Summary: A session between Mista J and Harley that I deem a worthy turning point in their "relationship" hot and scary, just like I like my Joker....Joker&Harley oneshot...reviews anyone?


_She really wasn't smart,_ he thought to himself. He'd already choked her once. He had snuck in a bobby pin that he lifted off a nurse without her even flinching a muscle to indicate she felt him do so. During one of their sessions he used it to unlock his restraints while the doc stared moony eyed at his Cheshire grin. He would have to admit he'd never had one of his doctors act in this manner where he was concerned. Hell, he'd never had anyone act that way toward him. This girl had issues and that was a fact, but coming from him, well that said something.

This stupid ditz was actually going to free him this time! All he had done was smile that signature smile and give her one of his best "_I want to ravage you_" looks that he'd been laying on her left and right these days. Usually that perfected leering look elicited reactions of either disgust or pure terror from females, but with this one, it was like melting butter over a spit.

"You know the last time I got free in here, what I did, well it was inexcusable," he started, trying to reassure her, because for all her fawning over him, she still had the look of leer in here blue eyes, "I didn't know you then doc, I just thought you were one of them, someone who wanted to make a name for themselves by hiding behind mine."

It seemed to be working; her face was starting to really relax now. She was on the edge of her seat, ready to pounce as soon as she felt safe enough.

_A little more and this helpless gazelle will be gasping for life between my teeth._

"I feel so comfortable around you," he purred in the most persuasive voice he could possibly conjure, "I just want my body to feel the way my heart does." He glanced down at his restraints and then looked at her with the most magnetic eyes she had ever seen.

That was the last brick in the haphazardly placed wall she had constructed after their last physical "_interaction_".

"Oh Mr. Joker, how could I think you would hurt me, I know we've gotten to know each other now, I've already forgiven you for that incident anyway, I just like hearing you talk." She said with the sheepish grin.

For a moment he imagined her head bouncing off the session room floor, the arrogant little minx was wasting his time.

"Shucks, I feel unworthy!" he said, sarcasm dripping off every syllable.

She stood and walked toward him one endless leg at a time. Oh yes, he notice how exquisitely tasty she looked. Ever since he saw her he knew that he was probably the only man in the world that could appreciate how many deliciously delightful and depraved things that could be done to her.

It was then that he figured he would have a little fun with her before he squelched her useless life from that beautiful body.

She knelt down next to him on the couch, and hesitated a little while reaching for the restraint on his right wrist.

"I promise I won't bite," he said, his eyes narrowing as she blushed and began to make short work of his restraint.

Her red lacquered finger nails gently grazed his soft cool skin.

He made a low noise in his throat when they did, making her tremble slightly as she pulled the strap free of the dull brass buckle.

"There, I can take it from here." He said reaching over to his left hand and with inhuman speed, freed it. Then he sat up and stretched and rubbed his wrists before leaning down to take care of his ankles.

She had unconsciously taken a few steps backward as he popped the last buckle and swung his legs around.

The moment of truth, her mind was racing as she tried to anticipate his next move, he would either sit there and nothing would be wrong, he would stand up and walk around, and nothing would be wrong, or he would come after her, but that scenario could either be wrong or very right. In all professionalism this entire situation was completely wrong, but, in "_their world_", the one that Harley lived in, the rules were different, if there were any rules to begin with.

"Are you scared?" he asked in a low slow growl, his head was lowered and his eyes were piercing into her from under sharp green brows.

"Should I be?" she asked.

"I think you are," he said as he slowly stood from the couch with the dexterity of a panther.

"Whu…why do you say that Mr. Joker?" she asked, her words were escaping her.

He took a smooth slow step toward her. His long lean legs were closing the distance between them shorter than a normal mans stride.

"Because you're breathing has become short and labored," he grinned, "your stunning blue eyes have gotten a tad wider," so did his smile, "and those ruby red lips of yours are parted ever so slightly."

With the last statement she closed her mouth and tried to straighten herself out.

"Why don't you sit back down Mr. Joker, I think that would be the best idea?" She stated trying to sound convincing, though not all that convinced herself that it was what she wanted.

"How's about I don't, and we continue like we are?" he retorted raising one eyebrow.

He took another step towards her and she sat staring him straight in the eye unwavering.

_She's got guts, no brains where common sense is involved, but guts none the less._

"I don't think you want me to sit back down anyway," he stated matter of factly. He had raised his hand up and with an upturned nose inspected his fingernails and the mocked like he was buffing them on his hospital issue pale green shirt.

"I think you want me just like this." He looked at her from the corner of his darkly lined eye.

"You're mistaken trust me, I don't want you to loom over me while I try to talk with you about your therapy, it's distracting." She glanced away from him and began to fumble with her notes.

He took another step toward her; this one seemed larger than the last because he was now standing directly in front of her, looking down his long pointed nose at Harleen Quinzel who was doing her best to act as if his commanding presence wasn't invading every bit of her space and then some.

"Oh I see, you don't want me just standing here, you want me somewhere else?" he was chiding her, making her blush madly.

"Look at me...now." He said with a deep commanding tone.

Her head snapped up instantly like a dog obeying her master's orders. He reached his right hand forward and with long white slender fingers he began to play with a loose tendril of her golden hair. She closed her eyes only for a moment and then snapped them back open as if she'd just remembered who she was sitting in front of. The corner of his scarlet mouth slid into a smirk.

"What is it you want to do for me doc?" he asked in a playful tone.

"I want to help you," She answered back. It took every bit of will power in him not to burst into hysterical laughter.

"You and I both know that there is nothing you can say to me that will make me any "better" by society's terms, I'm not messed up, I'm perfectly fine, and because I know that, because you know that, then I'm assuming you must be wanting to help me in some other fashion?"

He was being as lecherous and crass as he could be. He wanted her to feel utterly uncomfortable and dirty. And he could smell the faint fruit of his labors exuding sweetly from her.

"I…I don't know what you mean Mr. …"

"Don't play dumb with me doc, you're just as crazy as I am, but I wonder what it would be like to be with someone just as crazy as me."

He had grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in his dark red eyes. He saw something that resembled passion there, mixed with fear, it excited him beyond words. The things he wanted to do to that perfectly curved body, the things he could make her scream, the places he would make her bleed from, it was almost too hilarious that she had released him to seal her fate.

He pulled her up out of her chair by her chin and held her as face to face as they could get.

"The things I'm going to do to you…" that was all he said before he slid his hand from her chin to her slender neck and let his long fingers wrap around it. He didn't squeeze, just held it there to make sure she knew who was in control.

"Tell me you're mine," he hissed into her face.

"I'm yours." She managed to squeak out.

"Tell me you want me," he said slightly louder now.

"I want you." Her words were catching in her throat.

"Ask me to do what I want to you," he breathed just an inch from her mouth.

"Please, please Joker, don't hurt me," she pleaded, tears threatening to spill from her conflicted eyes.

Anger rose inside of him. _How DARE she beg for her life when he had not told her to do so!_

With this he spun her around not taking his hand from her throat and crushed her against him. She tried to scream out but his large possessive hand squeezed her wind pipe shut and her cries for help were stifled. He then marched her to the wall they faced and slammed her into it before crashing against her from behind.

With one hand around her neck he reached his other up and snaked his fingers through her silky blonde hair and then gripped tightly jerking her head back to look at him. His mouth was on her ear as tears streamed down her face.

"Did I give you permission to beg?" he demanded.

She did her best to shake her head no against his painfully tight grip.

"I could do whatever I wanted with you in here for a good hour and a half and no one would know the difference," he threatened smashing her against the wall harder.

"I could torture you, I could fuck you, I could _kill_ you…hell I could torture and kill you and then fuck you and by the time those imbeciles found us, you'd be long gone and I'd have gotten all my fun out of you."

He stifled a menacing laugh so as not to attract attention to Harley and himself during their latest "_session_".

He could see terror in her eyes, but, there was something else. Was that lust? Was she enjoying this? He almost let the rather startling discovery derail his current plan of action.

"Do you want me to kill you?" he asked mockingly.

She shook her head no.

"Then you want me to torture you?" he asked again smiling this time.

She shook her head no again silently.

"Oh, I see, then you do want me to fuck you." He snarled through clenched teeth. His hand releasing her throat traveled languidly down the soft curve of her side. He reached her skirt and slid his long fingers under it pulling it up over her almost stark white thigh.

She gasped for air as he pressed her even harder into the concrete wall. She could feel his extremely prominent arousal digging into her from behind.

"J….Juh….," she tried to speak, her voice escaping her.

"That's right my Harlequin, say daddy's name, I want your last word to be _my_ name." he hissed into her ear.

The thrill of his touch was sending her senses into over drive. She did want him, she wanted all of him, every sick and twisted thing he wanted to do to her she wanted, but she couldn't tell him that if she was dead, she had to think of something to say that would catch him off guard, something that would stop him.

"JACK!" she managed to shout.

He went still, his hand frozen right above her panty line, the tugging on her hair stopped.

"Well then, haven't we done our homework?" His feelings of homicidal lust were replaced by that of intrigue.

He released her hair and slid his hand from her skirt before backing away from her a few steps. Very few people knew his slave name; hell not even the great doc Arkham knew it. This game had just gotten very interesting.

"I…I'm sorry, I do want you Mr. J, but, but I don't think I'd be of much use to you dead." She pleaded with him, lipstick smeared and hair a tangled mess around her flushed face. _What made her think she could be of any use to him at all_? he growled to himself. But then he thought just now she looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. She liked the abuse, he may just have to keep this clever little clown he thought to himself.

"So do you want to chat with Jack? Or play with The Joker…pick one, otherwise never call me Jack Napier again or I will most certainly without a shadow of a doubt kill you in the most painful way you can ever hope to imagine." His words were sharp like the bladed cards he used to deal death.

"I'd like to play with Mr. Joker if it's all the same to you," she said with a sly grin. He certainly didn't fail to notice that she left that tight skirt hiked up as she sat down across from him.

_This was too much, where had this broad come from_?

"You are one daffy doc," he chuckled," Ok then, play we shall my Harley Quinn, and oh what fun we will have." A broad smile stretched across his pallid face from ear to ear.


End file.
